To Hope
by Xelako
Summary: Samantha Hunter never knew she would be sharing a flat with Jim from IT, but her friend Molly had been very persuasive with her dislike for the idea of her and Sherlock possibly sharing one. This is the story of Samantha Hunter and how she met Jim from IT and Sherlock Holmes who she would find impossible to part with. Hopefully he will not hate her for what she will do. Could be M.
1. Chapter 1

**Series **Sherlock

**Pairing: **Sherlock X OC

**Rating: **T for language until stated otherwise (if it changes to M I'll edit the tags and set an Author's Note)

**Tags: **Male/Female, romance, friendship, comic relief, trust, mystery, medicine, doctor, mention of mature themes

**Disclaimer:** Sherlock and it's characters belong to BBC, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The only thing that belongs to me are my own characters (Samantha Hunter) and the plot.

**Characters: **Sherlock Holmes, OC, Molly Hooper, James Moriarty, John Watson (minor appearance).

**A/N: **There will be violence in this and pretty graphic medical cases that have some real background. Do not try any of this at home (please don't try to be a surgeon or a serial killer).

**Co-writen by:** ...

**BETA reader:** ...

* * *

WHEN by my solitary hearth I sit,  
And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom;  
When no fair dreams before my "mind's eye" flit,  
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;  
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,  
And wave thy silver pinions o'er my head!

To Hope by John Keats

* * *

Have you ever felt like you have made a poor life choice and it's painfully obvious? Because that's the only thing that went through Samantha Hunter's mind when she arrived to her flat around ten pm. Her feet hurt, her eyes were tired and rimmed with dark circles, she was dead tired. She sometimes wondered why she had chosen her career as it was draining her life force away. Ah yes, saving people, that's why. The only thing that kept her going and kept her brown hair in her head. Anymore stress and she would probably lose her hair.

There wasn't an elevator in this building because it was quite an old one. The flats were pretty on the inside with large windows and elegant architecture, but not big enough to share it with someone. Sam had chosen this flat because it was close to the hospital she was working in. "Was" being the key word, she took a job offer at Barts just last month because of the pay. Her flat was not close anymore to say the least. It normally took her at least 45 minutes to get there, people died in 45 minutes and that was unacceptable. Also transferring to another hospital always meant getting used to new people with different personalities and getting used to this people. At least she had learned that Molly Hooper worked at the morgue of that same hospital.

"Welcome home lady." A man nodded at her from the top of the stairs. He was coming towards her with a decisive look. "What are you doing out here so late in the night?" He said with a slight slur in his words and a hint of innuendo.

"I...uh just came back from work." Samantha faked a polite smile and continued walking towards her flat. She realized that she would eventually need to walk besides him to get there and groaned inwardly. The man was big but not muscled, he had a creepy mustache and he smelled like a distillery. Great, just what she needed! A random drunk stranger keeping her from her flat.

"Would you like to go up to my flat?" He asked suggestively, the man even winked at her and grinned. Samantha managed not to shudder in disgust.

"No thank you, I'm really tired to be honest." She didn't add the 'And you are creepy as fuck', she decided not to fight with him as she tried to simply walk to her flat. She walked besides him in the stairs and reached her floor. He simply stared at her with dilated pupils and a lost expression.

"So no? Uh ok." He nodded in acceptance but walked in her direction anyway. Samantha got her keys out of her purse and looked at him wearily. "What? I'm not going to anything to you." He smiled, but it was not sincere and it sent a chill down her spine. "Well not anything you wouldn't like." He was right in front of her, the smell of alcohol almost choking her.

Sam froze. Her left hand clutching her purse for dear life, right hand trying to get the key into the damn key hole. The man leaned towards her, faster than she could react. Her mind felt slow because of the fear and he was probably moving slower or faster than what she could realize. Her right hand found the key hole and finally stuck the key inside without alerting the larger man. She turned the key at the same time the man managed to kiss her neck with an open mouthed kiss. Her eyes widened and she gasped in fear at the sudden contact.

Sam reacted without thinking and pushed him with all her strength. She raised her hand to slap his face, but instead her legs carried her to the safety of her flat and she slammed the door. She locked it quickly and laid back on the door, slowly sinking down to the floor. Her hands were shaking. Sam growled under her breath and threw the keys and her purse as far as she could.

She sighed and thought of her actions like a grounded child. If she hadn't frozen she could have escaped earlier... or he would've turned violent. The probabilities of him catching her hand were too high. The probabilities of her being stronger, too low. The probabilities of him pushing her inside her open door and into her flat were too high. She shivered. Sam pulled her knees to her chest and hugged her legs. Her eyes didn't stung with tears, but the shock was enough to freeze her entire body. She groaned and sat there for who knows how much time. Sam eventually stood up to take a shower.

* * *

She was sitting in the cafeteria the next day with a cup of bad coffee in front of her. Sam was waiting for Molly to show up as expected. They had been meeting for lunch every day since Sam transferred to Saint Bartholomew's Hospital a month ago. They had met at uni and had tried to keep in contact ever since. Of course it had been difficult but they sometimes shared stories with each other. Stories about patients (dead or alive) and stories about colleagues. Molly wasn't too easy to talk to because of her shyness and reluctance, but they had bonded years ago and friends are forever.

Friends are forever.

Molly Hooper better have an excuse for making her wait. She was hungry and she never liked eating alone. It was too depressive.

"Sorry I'm late." Came Molly's voice from behind her. She looked disheveled and she was breathing hard. "I had a thing up in the morgue." Molly pointed to the ceiling and Sam raised an eyebrow. The morgue was in the basement levels along with most of the labs and Molly pointed up several times.

"Uh don't you mean down in the morgue." Molly just stared back at her with wide eyes, not fully comprehending.

"Yeah that! Down!" Molly sat down in front of her with a huff and tried not to look directly at Sam's green eyes.

"Ok spit it out," Sam took a sip of her coffee before continuing "what's going on?"Uh Molly fidgeted in her seat which annoyed Sam on a deep level. She hated seeing Molly uncomfortable, it made her feel overprotective of her and she hated that feeling.

"Is it... um... a boyfriend?" Molly's brown eyes widened and Sam gasped. That's when Molly started freaking out completely.

"He- He is not my boy- boyfriend he um" she stuttered more and Sam just grinned.

"So it's a him, huh?" Sam's grin widened even more, showing of her perfect teeth in the process. "It's just Sherlock..." murmured Molly who was embarrassed. Like Sherlock himself was sitting with them.

"**The** Sherlock Holmes you've been bitching about?" Molly nodded. "Have I had the pleasure to meet him?" Molly shook her head and just let Sam lead the conversation, her hunger forgotten. "Can I meet him now?" Molly blushed even harder and Sam just laughed.

"What are you girls laughing about?" Spoke a voice behind Sam which she recognize as Mike Stamford's voice.

"Well I'm laughing about Molly and she is just showing me how her vasodilation works." She smiled smugly and Stamford just chuckled. He shook his head and sat with them, he had a cup of coffee in his hand and some documents on his hands.

"I love it when people use scientific names for every day events." Mentioned Stamford while taking a sip from his own coffee. "Here Molly, DI Lestrade left this for you." Stamford handed her the documents that were hiden away in a brown folder.

"Thanks Mike." Molly smiled at him and took the documents from him. "So, how has your day been?" Molly asked Stamford who just shrugged with a smile on his face.

"Well," he began "I met an old friend of mine who was in the army." He noticed both Molly and Sam suddenly paying more attention and he smiled. "He was an army doctor deployed in Afghanistan, now a veteran. He told me he was looking for a flat."

"Now that you mention it I desperately need a new flat." Sam mentioned, grabbing her cup to take another sip.

"Why? What's wrong with your current one?" Asked Molly with a raised eyebrow. She sounded concerned and slightly confused about the whole issue. "Your flat is quite pretty."

"There was this drunk arse who tried to kiss me yesterday and I don't need that in my life to be honest." She sighed when both Mike and Molly gasped as if she had somehow insulted them with her bad luck. "Anyway I need a flat closer to Barts than my current one, perks of being a trauma surgeon." She rolled her eyes and took a final swig of coffee. "I'm hungry let's go get some food." Sam stood up abruptly with a frown on her face. Molly recognized her frown as a sign of avoidance and annoyance.

"Hey wait!" Mike called before Sam left, she turned to him but her stance was defensive and ready to volt. "You are the third person that has said that to me today... and you seem to need it more." He smiled warmly at her, his cheeks making his eyes look honest and caring. Mike Stamford was one of the those type of person who would get you to open up about their lives. Molly straightened her pose, facial expressions tense and uncomfortable. Her mind was on full alert screaming "no" repeatedly. She didn't want Mike to offer Sam to Sherlock. Wait that sounded quite wrong, really wrong. "I know someone who is looking for a flatmate, his name is-" he was interrupted by Molly who shouted a name other than Sherlock's.

"Jim!" Interrupted Molly. Her face turned red quite quickly when both Mike and Sam stared at her with equal amounts of surprise. "Uhh... Jim from IT is looking for a flatmate." She didn't know how she managed to stutter that sentence.

"Really?" Asked Mike "I was going to introduce her to Sherlock in case he didn't agree with Doctor Watson." He turned to Sam who looked between him and Molly who refused to look at her.

That's when it clicked. Molly didn't want her to share a flat with Sherlock. Either that or she really wanted her to share a flat with this Jim fella. "Oh" she uttered "that's quite alright, I think Molly could introduce me to this Jim from IT guy." Sam couldn't help but wink at Molly without Mike seeing her. "Well I'd really like to keep chatting with you Stamford but my body needs nutrition and I won't be able to it until seven." She shook hands with Mike and motioned for Molly to follow her with a nod.

Molly stumbled out of her seat while apologizing to Mike, he nodded and stood up as well mentioning something about work. She followed Sam who was already ordering a hamburger and a soda on the other end of the cafeteria.

"So Molls," Sam used a teasing tone "when are you going to introduce me to this Sherlock fella?"

"When were you going to tell me about the drunk guy at your flat?" Molly's tone was unusually serious and Sam sighed, her face going all serious.

"I was going to, but you looked a bit stressed out and didn't want to add my own personal matters to your stress." Molly shook her head and Sam rolled her eyes dismissively. "Nothing happened, I'm okay. He just freaked me out a bit." Molly frowned again, the expression looking foreign to her usually gentle looks.

"Sam."

"What?" They just stared at each other. "I don't know what you want me to tell you! I'm okay and that's what matters!" The lady at the other side of the counter faked that she hadn't heard a thing when she gave Sam her order and took her money.

"_Are_ you okay?" Molly asked seriously "and don't say yes just to appease me!"

"I would never say yes just to appease you or anyone else for that matter. I'm okay Molly really just hungry." Sam grabbed her change with a fake smile and shoved it in one of her several pockets. She was wearing dark blue scrubs, white converse that had seen better days and her white coat. Molly ordered a salad with chicken and they ate in relative silence, a comfortable silence.

"Hey want to meet Jim?"

"Is he gay?" Sam blurted the question out.

"What?" Molly pretended (or hoped) she heard her wrong.

"Is he gay?" she repeated.

"Umm not that I know of... we are going to have dinner on Friday or Saturday actually." Molly smiled at her.

"So he likes you?" Sam grinned at the idea.

"I don't know really... maybe he's the kind of bloke who likes making friends." Molly shrugged and blushed at her stupid response.

"Yeah right! I'm not buying it!" Sam's grin widened when Molly's blush deepened.

"Come on, if you are not introducing me to Sherlock then you'll introduce me to Jim." Sam stood up and pulled Molly from her seat. They had both discarded their food already so Sam had no problem with forcing Molly to the door. Molly laughed and slapped Sam's hands away from her.

"Don't you have work to do?" Molly asked between giggles.

"Don't you?" Sam raised an eyebrow and pulled out her phone to look at the time.

"I still have 20 minutes to kill and your dead people are not going anywhere." Molly lead Sam through Barts, they went to the top floor were the offices and some ORs were located.

The left wing was used for offices and the right one for the ORs and the ICU. Barts was a relatively small hospital with only three upper levers and two basement levels used for labs, storage, lounges and the morgue. The first floor had the ER, two ORs, X-ray, TAC and MRI rooms, and some offices. The second floor was strictly for patients. Molly brought Sam to an office, she stopped to knock and opened the door when she heard a "come in". Sam though the voice was really high pitched and not naturally so. She was Jim sitting behind a desk with an old monitor in it. Jim from IT stood up to great Molly with a kiss on the cheek and shook hands with Sam. He smiled all the time, but his dark eyes didn't light up with the same happiness which was odd. Molly introduced them and they had some small chat about what they did for a living. It was quite the boring conversation you could have with mostly anyone. It was too dull for Samantha who preffered comfortable silence to small talk.

"Samantha is actually looking for a flat." Sam noticed how Molly used her full name, something she did when she wanted Sam to behave or when she felt uncomfortable. This was probably both.

"Really!" He said in his cheery tone, it was so fake and it felt so weird when accompained by his accent. "I was just telling a colleague how I needed a flat mate! What a coincidence!" He chuckled and turned his back to them to pick up a post-it note pad. "Here's the address if you want to take a look at it after work." Jim scribbled something on the post-it note ans handed it to Sam.

"Great, my shift ends at 7 o'clock today so I'll pop in around that time, if it's okay with you?" She looked at the note and realized that the flat was in a nice building a couple of blocks from the hospital. Sam could come running to the ER if something happened. She also felt a slight jealousy at the delicate calligraphy Jim apparently owned but brushed it away.

"I also close shop at seven, so we can share a cab," he smiled again, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.

"Where will you be at seven? I know how Trauma Surgeons are never in the same place for more than an hour." Sam didn't quite remember talking about her speciality but she shrugged the thought away.

"Down at the ER... just ask a nurse for Doctor Hunter and she'll tell you were I am... hopefully."

"Alright, Doctor Hunter." Jim smiled politely at her with the same sideways smile that didn't quite reach his dark eyes. "I'll meet you there."

"You can call me Samantha or Sam if you feel like it, we are going to be sharing a flat anyway. No need for such politeness." Sam smiled just the way he smiled at her, coldly with her eyes showing no emotion despite her smile. There was something dark about his personality that she couldn't put her finger on. It was something that he tried to hide with such a devotion and effort that she wondered how much of him was she really seeing. That, was something that made her want to know him better. Sam wanted to know why he was faking such apparent sweetness with them.

"Samantha it is then." He said, his voice deeper now and raspier. This was his usual tone, this was his real tone of voice. This was but a taste of the real him.

Sam shivered at the sudden coldness and turned to Molly who seemed unaffected by the changes on Jim's voice and overall posture. He stood straighter, his head high in a regal pose. This was the real Jim, a colder and far more serious Jim. He looked at her straight in the eye and she could swore she felt the brilliant mind behind them. Sam didn't tore her eyes from him as she addressed Molly. Jim kept his cold dark eyes fixed on her green ones.

"Molls my shift is about to start love, I have to go." She kissed her cheek and waved at Jim, never taking her eyes off him "bye guys." Sam basically ran away after that.

She headed down to the ER where people were getting ready to change shifts. This last social interaction was definitely something she needed to dwell upon when she had the free time to ponder. Jim was definitely special in his own way, not attractively so. He was just different than anyone she had ever met. This meeting felt as if he had been testing her, she wasn't quite sure how or why, and she wasn't so sure she wanted to know.

Jim from IT would definitely be an interesting flatmate. At least until she found another flat near the hospital.

* * *

**A/N: **Did you guys liked Sam? I have so much stuff prepared for her, just wait dear readers. Just wait.

Please Review.


	2. Chapter 2

"Uhh excuse me ma'am," Jim tapped a nurse on the shoulder who turned around to smile at him. He shifted uncomfortably on his feet and smiled at her. "Do you know where I can find Doctor Hunter?"

"Wait let me check..." the nurse headed to the nurse station where she grabbed a note pad from her desk and started scanning through the many names scribbled on it. "Oh she is out for the moment?"

"Out?"

"She went out with an ambulance darling." The nurse smiled sympathetically "if you were planning on going out with her right this moment then I suggest you take a seat over there," she gestured towards a waiting area that had full view of the ER. "There was a car crash on a motorway fifteen minutes near here so she may take half an hour to be able to leave the hospital." The nurse said.

Jim nodded and went to sit on a lonely chair. That's when he saw Sherlock Holmes himself walk into the room. Jim's eyes widened with sudden interest at the sudden appearance of the iconic consulting detective, but this was not the right time to approach the man. James Moriarty controlled his facial expressions like only a master could. Turning his devilish smile and dead eyes to the expression of the ignorant Jim from IT. His face relaxed and he fidgeted in his seat like he was uncomfortable and waiting for someone. He picked his nails and followed the nurses with eyes full of hope as if they would tell him some good news.

Sherlock didn't even turn to look at him. Great.

A male nurse saw Sherlock and immediately walked over him. The man raised his hand to shake Sherlock's hand with a huge grin. Moriarty tried his best to keep his eyes from looking directly at them. From the corner of his eye he could tell the man's smile was fake and that he was expected to do something for Sherlock judging by the stiff handshake and the way he leaned slightly towards the direction of some lockers that stood in the far corner of the emergency room. The male nurse rested all his weight in one leg ready to bolt in case he needed to. He couldn't hear what they talked about and he couldn't risk using his lip reading skills for fear of being discovered. The man nodded and went directly to the lockers just as Moriarty had deduced.

Exactly 15 seconds went by and the doors opened violently with a gurney being pushed inside the ER. Doctor Samantha Hunter was straddling a bloody man on the gurney and doing steady compression to the man's chest. There was blood covering the entire gurney, her clothes, and her cheek. The man was missing both legs and that's where all the blood came from. Her eyes were concentrated on the nearest nurse who wasn't pushing/pulling the gurney or doing the manual respiration for the man.

"He has a pericardial effusion, I need a 14 fr needle and a scalpel, get me a crash cart and a portable ultrasound machine." The nurse nodded and ran away as the gurney was being pushed towards a station just in Jim's line of sight. He stared unabashedly at her.

And so did Sherlock Holmes.

"Keep the respirations on five seconds apart, not four not six! Five!" The nurse nodded and another doctor came into her eyesight waiting for orders. "Richards switch places with me." The man nodded and placed his hands on top of hers, Sam wouldn't take her hands away until she was certain he had picked up on her pace. She wasn't going to risk anything going wrong with this man's heart. Sam looked at the monitors and made a sound in the back of her throat similar to a low growl mixed with a hiss.

Sherlock and Moriarty observed without moving an inch taking in all the visual information. It was a man around his late 30s, he had a golden band that indicated he was newly married judging by its clean state despite of the blood. He was missing both legs from just under the knee. There were black straps tied around the stumps to keep the blood inside his body. The man was clearly unconscious and the heart monitor a nurse had been pushing around was only beeping slightly when Sam moved. That meant no pulse, and a huge amount of blood loss.

They both arrived to the same conclusion. The patient would most likely die and she was wasting her energy on him. Still, they couldn't take their eyes from her as she switched places with the so called Richards and she hopped off the gurney rather gracelessly. A male nurse held her arm to steady her to which she was rather grateful.

"Someone go fetch me some plasma, he is just going through all this blood," she pointed to the blood bag attached to the man and a nurse ran away to get the plasma. The first nurse returned accompanied by a male nurse and the required items. "Ok I'm going in while you keep going. "

"You sure?" asked Richards while concentrating on the chest compressions.

"Yes! Don't worry about me, I've done this before. Chill" She winked at Richards who chuckled in return along with two other nurses. People needed some comic relief every now and then to work perfectly specially young people. "Scalpel." She commanded from the nurse.

Richards nodded and gave her space to open the man without stopping his movements. Both, Sherlock and Moriarty moved to be able to get a better view.

Sherlock took a couple steps closer to the gurney and Jim from IT needed to fetch some water from an oasis just in the right place to look at her.

Sam prodded the ribs with her fingers and steadied the moving skin with them when she found the correct place between the 4th and 5th intercostal. She cut the man open with her scalpel and she nodded at the nurse who handed her the ultra and the needle. She guided herself with the ultra and stuck the needle near the heart to suck the extra liquid away and relieve the heart from the pressure and stress this caused.

"We have a heart beat!" Exclaimed a nurse cheerfully. Some of the nurses cheered either to the man or to Sam. She smiled but otherwise ignored them, turning to prepare the man's legs for surgery.

"We are not done here yet! Take him to OR two, Doctor Miller is already there waiting for him." The nurses nodded and ran away with the gurney.

Sam stood there for a while looking at the floor. There was a blood trail coming from the entrance door to where she stood. There where bloody footsteps and a small river of blood that ended in a puddle in front of her.  
The mattress had been completely soaked when she had hopped into it for the CPR and that was the reason for the blood on Sam's clothes. Sam numbly stood there for a moment, just breathing. Not knowing that two men where studying her every move, one of them simply interested and impressed with her skills. The other not so noble man was grinning at the opportunity in front of him.

The male nurse from earlier went to Sherlock and gave him a brown lunch bag that looked quite suspicious. Sherlock nodded and walled away swiftly. Yet, he didn't leave before looking at the Doctor who had just noticed that her clothes were soaked in blood from her knees to her chest and random stains on the bare tanned skin of her arms. He saw Samantha groaning and turning around with an irritated look. Their eyes met for a few seconds, Sam was simply entranced by his light blue eyes that looked even lighter with the strong white lights of the ER. She was slightly surprised by the stoic man who was looking directly at her with no specific emotions on his face, just serious and intense.

Sherlock took to deducing her. She looked exhausted and hasn't slept much, she was new to Barts maybe a month or two. She had a coffee addiction, she needed glasses judging by her tired stare and the way she looked back at him. He further deduced that she was addicted to reading novels instead of resting at night, something in the way she rested her hands in the air. She had been in somewhere desertic months ago judging by her complexion, the slight signs of dehydration on her skin and the state of her brown hair which was lighter because of the sunlight. He wasn't too sure about where exactly she had been because she didn't exactly met the military stereotype and her body was too graceless for having taken any military training. She didn't like makeup and she always used her hair up in a bun when she worked. Dog lover. His deductions took less than 20 seconds as he then chose to file her physical appearance in his mind palace in case he needed a Doctor for people who were alive. He admitted to being impressed with her life saving skills.

Sam's mind was blank with fatigue and with the way this unknown man looked at her. His gaze was intense and calculating. She felt incredibly self conscious of her appearance. She attempted to pass a hand through her hair, but stopped when she saw the blood on her hands and under her finger nails. She frowned and wondered if she had blood on her face or neck. Sam groaned again and saw that the man was gone, only watching the end of his black coat as the doors closed behind him. Instead she saw Jim walking towards her.

"Guess you aren't ready to go." Jim smiled sympathetically at her when he was near enough, he had a cup of water in his hand which he offered to her. Sam took it gratefully, her throat sore from ordering nurses around.

"I just need to clean myself up." Sam shrugged and returned Jim's smile which she though was slightly more honest than it was earlier. "I'll be back in five minutes." She gave the plastic cup back to him and ran to the lockers upstairs were she cleaned up some blood on the washroom and changed to some brown boots, black leggings, a deep red jumper, and a black coat that she left open.

She ran back to Jim who was reading a book by the entrance to the locker room. His expression was serious and more relaxed than his usual fake happiness. He saw her and gave her half smile and a nod. Jim pocketed the book in his suitcase as they both walked towards the exit of the hospital. He wore an old jacket, jeans and a baseball cap.

"That was an amazing job you did down there." Jim complimented her with a grin. He knew medics loved those kinds of compliments, he had learned it the wrong way when he was shot and insulted his doctor for not being gentle.

"Thanks, I am planning on coming tomorrow morning to see if he is awake yet."

"Why?"

"He is an amputee... there's a high risk of suicide in there." She shrugged and walked faster towards the street where she hailed a cab.

Jim gave the cabbie the address and they spent the whole ride in a tense silence. Sam was both angry and worried, this made her feel irritated and Jim felt that with his observation skills and logic.

They arrived to a white building with five floors. Each floor was a single flat. They went to the 3rd floor and Jim opened the door for her. The flat was extremely gorgeous. It had two bedrooms with one bathrooms, wooden floors with deep red rugs that looked good enough to sleep there. The kitchen was made for three people to be able to move around. The living room was pretty normal but the furniture looked super comfortable and elegant at the same time. The living room was connected to the dining room which had a wooden table with matching chairs.

"Let me show you your room." Jim walked past her with a smirk on his face. Sam was distracted by the long windows and the vast bookshelves standing by them. She could see herself reading in one of the couches. There was even enough space for her several books in the empty bookshelves. Like Jim had been waiting for her. Which was weird and too much of a coincidence. She shook the thought away and followed Jim towards what would be her room.

Jim was waiting for her near a brown door in front of what she judged to be his room. He opened the door for her and she immediately started exploring.  
It was quite big for a common London flat, but not too exaggerated. The bed was bare and it had a mattress that looked new, apart from that the room was bare. She had enough furniture anyway.

Next, Sam explored the bathroom which was pretty normal but with a tub/shower thing that looked like heaven to her. She craved a good bath at the moment.

"What do you think?" asked Jim from behind her, leaning casually against the door frame.

"I'm moving in tomorrow." She responded quickly without taking her eyes from the tub and thinking about the one from her current flat which was a tad bit smaller. Jim chuckled.

They both started discussing payments and bills in the living room with a cup of tea. The whole incident with the cup of tea is that they both refused to let the other do it and so they shared an awkward moment with preparing the tea together in a peaceful manner. Jim even gave her a key for when she decided to move in and told her that he would speak with the landlord. Sam wasn't kidding when she said the next day, she had even texted another doctor to help her with her things. Sam said her goodbyes and Jim called a cab for her.

She arrived home where she took a shower which was quite bloody as she had some blood on her hair (lord knows how she got blood in her hair). Sam had sent a text to Doctor Miller asking about the well being of her last patient. Apparently his wife had come over but the nurses didn't let her stay in the ICU and she had been asking for Sam. The nurses had told her the stories the paramedics had share about Sam saving the man in the site and then basically bringing him back to life before surgery which had gone surprisingly well considering the man's state. Sam felt a bit guilty for not meeting the wife and reassuring her, but she was too tired for that and instead she fell asleep.

Sam had the morning off so she moved in with Jim in the morning with some help from a doctor. Jim was at work so she left a note on the refrigerator. She chatted with the landlord who turned out to be pretty nice and who liked the fact that he had a useful doctor in the building instead of just a dentist. She decided she loved the man. Sam had lunch with the same doctor who helped her with her stuff and then went to St. Bart's to start her graveyard shift (in this case 2pm-12am). The first thing she did was check on her patients, the man from last night being the last on her list. The wife was there on a chair by her husband's bed. He was napping, he had probably been awake earlier because there was a half finished food tray by his bed.

"Good evening, my name is Doctor Hunter. I was with your husband yesterday." The woman turned her head towards Sam. Sam sighed inwardly knowing how worried the woman was and that sometimes worry could turn into anger and even hate.

"You were the one to cut his legs?" It was a question but the woman's voice sounded like she knew the answer. Sam felt her entire body go cold.

"Yes ma'am." Sam chose the simple answer and stood perfectly still.

The woman just nodded and looked down on her husband. She held his hand and looked at him like was going to disappear in any second. Taking in every breath he took and any shift in his face. She didn't care he had tubes all around him, she only cared for him.

"Thanks... I'm just glad he is alive." She gave a sideways glance to Sam. "I just want him to be glad he is alive when he wakes up."  
That was it, Sam couldn't take it anymore, but that was her job. Sam bit the inside of her cheek and checked her patient's stats quickly and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. Sam of course talked to the woman about how he is going to be fine and reassured her before fleeing with a gentle pace.  
She ran downstairs where she needed to check out some x-rays about a mysterious illness.

Mysterious in the sense that everyone gave a different diagnosis to the man and now he had come to her. He complained of chronic pain and lack of mobility in his left leg. She had already ruled out a mirage of bone and muscular illnesses.

She stood there in the small room looking at the x-rays, charts, and notes for a while until someone else barged into the room with their own x-rays in a brown folder. Sam raised an eyebrow at the man. It was the same man that she had been staring at... uhh looking at after her last patient yesterday. He faltered in his steps for a moment and looked at her, but quickly decided to ignore her completely.

Sherlock didn't acknowledge her existence and instead focused on the x-rays all around the ridiculously small room on the white lights.

"Excuse me sir but you can't just-"

Sherlock raised his hand to shut her up, his globed hand was just inches from her nose. Sam blinked at the man and (after taking note that his hand was as bigger than her face) she slapped his hand away.

Sherlock just grunted and continued studying the scans. Sam was going to complain again when he grabbed her by the wrist. Sam's eyes widened when he snatched the notes from her hands and the charts.

"Hey give them back!" She tried snatching them from him but he simply stretched his arm away from her body.

"In case you hadn't noticed yet I'm trying to aid you here." Sherlock never took his eyes away from the notes or the x-rays to speak with her and that really insulted her.

"In case you hadn't noticed I didn't ask you to." She snapped back, "who are you?" She looked at his clothes but couldn't tell much. He was plainly dressed in black trousers and a navy blue shirt. No white coat, which didn't say much because not everyone wore them everywhere.

"He has a cardiomegalia, and a brain tumor that is causing him pain right here." Sherlock pointed to a random spot on one of the brain scans. Sam gasped and leaned towards the scans. She had barely paid attention to the scans after a colleague had told her they were fine. "You shouldn't trust people that much."

"What?" Her eyes widened and she alternated between him and the scans.

"You clearly didn't revise the brain scans because you revised them with someone else. Another doctor who probably told you this man was a junky and that his pain wasn't real. I know you were taking special interest in his hip but you couldn't find anything judging by your stance and because that was the only one you were looking at when I got here." He was looking at her like she was a pulse, with all his attention and a frown that looked like he was slightly disgusted by her.

"How the hell do you know all that? Don't answer, but he doesn't have a cardiomegalia." She walked to the scans. "The size is perfectly normal, I already made sure of that. Well not perfectly normal but he is just fat." She shrugged annoyed at him. Sam was frowning at the heart scan until she went to see the brain scans. "Where's the tumor?" She couldn't see it and that was deeply embarrassing for her, it would be worst if she had been a neurosurgeon.

"Here." Sherlock moved towards her, she was standing right in front of the scans. Sam felt his body heat on her back and neck when he leaned over her to tap a spot on the scans. "Right there."

Sam felt his hot breath on her neck and bit the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from snapping at him. This man didn't know a thing about personal space or manners for that matter. His finger was right next to a small dark spot. It was so small and almost impossible to be seen. Sam was tempted to press her nose against the scans to get a better look but kept herself from doing so. Instead she just gaped.

"Now if you excuse me I need to-" He attempted to remove her scans but she placed a hand on his arm.

"How the hell did you saw that?"

"Well you would have seen it also if you wore your glasses."

"What?" Sam blinked "I don't use glasses."

"You do, you are short sighted." Sherlock placed an awkward hand on her shoulder. It was meant to be reassuring but his movement was too forced and robotic. His blue eyes expressed his lack of sympathy for her and his lips where slightly pursed with annoyance. He looked rather boyish with his lips pursed like that.

Sam froze and then she frowned, she was a fucking surgeon she didn't need glasses. She definitely didn't need some random arse to tell her otherwise. She was going to get her eyes checked out anyway, just in case the asshole was right.

"Don't act surprised, anyway it won't affect you much since your specialization doesn't require much skills for observation."

Did he just... did he just... insult her specialization? In front of her, in a room with no cameras, where she could stab him in whatever artery she deemed painful with a pen? What an arrogant prick!

Sam was close to shivering with anger, but she took a deep breath and exhaled. Sherlock saw this and smiled smugly, thankfully she didn't see his smile or she would have slapped him.

"I'm going to ignore that insult and-"

"Boring!" He started ripping off her scans and placing his own x-rays rather forcefully. His body bumping hers on occasion to have a better access.

"Stop being such an asshole and... and... what the hell happened to him?" Sam forgot all her anger and turned to the scans. Her frown disappeared and her full lips were slightly parted in awe. She raised her arm and gently grazed the abdomen of the person. "All his organs..."

"Now this isn't boring." He murmured, his chest to her back. He was close enough for her to feel him but without any actual contact. She stopped caring the moment her interest lay on the new scans.

"What did they do to you?" She murmured with her fingers gently tracing the scans.

"Me? Nothing. Him? I'm going to ascertain who did it." He declared with a tone that irked her.

His voice was deep but she didn't expect him to sound so... eager. It was like this was a game for him.

"Who are you?" Sam turned to stare at him, his blue eyes were stuck to the x-rays and so she turned to study them. It was such a gruesome scene.

"Doesn't matter. What matters is who did this and why."

"Not a professional." Sam muttered. "No one who would respect himself would leave the intestines like this."

"Interesting observation Doctor Hunter, do go on."

"I don't get it... why would someone want to do this to someone? Looks like he is on his early 20s judging by his ankles." Sam grazed the ankles with her fingers.

"Why the ankles?" Asked Sherlock, this was something he didn't know and it scared him, but he made his question sound like he already knew the answer.

"There's a lot of cartilage here," she touched where the ankle connected to the foot "it means the body is still in growth..." Sam shook her head and focused on the abdomen. It was like the murderer tried to rebuild his body again but switching the order of the organs. The heart was in the wrong side, he had tried removing and replacing the lungs.

She spent at least five minutes just studying the scans and sharing some of her knowledge with Sherlock who either dismissed her information or added some of his deductions. The moment he had mentioned that he was going to hunt down the murdered she felt anger boiling up inside her.

"Well at least you are not as stupid as you seem." Sherlock growled suddenly, stopping her train of thought.

"Excuse me sir but you didn't know about that ankle thing." She snapped back.

"Well I'm not blind enough to not be able to see a tumor in a man's skull."

"I wasn't even looking at his brain!"

"And that's supposed to free you from any fault? Doctor Hunter you see but do not observe!" Sam's eyes widened at the well versed insult, not quite sure what to make of it. Suddenly she focused on his eyes and they were filled with passion. She mentally prepared herself for a speech. "People don't know what to look for Doctor Hunter. Instead they only see what they want to think or guess. Those little brains of them really can't see all the information that is flowing everywhere around them. Oh how would it feel like to have such a small brain?" Sherlock's eyes were bright, not because of how the light of the room made them look even paler and more beautiful than what they are. No, it was his passion for the subject that left Sam only able to stare at him. His whole body was vibrating with such an excitement that she could almost feel it in his aura.

But she didn't believe in the existence of an aura, nor did she had any time to day anything to him because in that moment the door was opened gently mad slowly. Molly poked inside like a scared mouse. She held her hands in front of her and Sam noticed how she was wearing a new lipstick.

"Sherlock! I've been looking for you!" Molly smiled brightly at him and then thought better of it and blushed instead.

Sam's eyes widened with realization. This wasn't a doctor. This was the man Molly had been complaining and gushing about for months.

"Yes, what is it Molly? I don't have all day unlike others who don't have enough intellect in them to occupy themselves in something that isn't mundane." He snapped with a cold, dark tone. Clearly not liking to be interrupted in the middle of his speech.

"D.I. Lestrade called... he... he needs you at a new crime scene." Molly fumbled with her coat and smiled at him shyly.

"Let's hope this isn't too easy to solve. Molly do me a favor and hand me your phone." Sherlock raised his hand and waited for Molly's phone.

Molly hesitated but gave it to him anyway. Sherlock texted Lestrade asking for the address and then he texted John the address. They had just solved the case about a woman dressed in pink a couple of days ago. John had seemed eager for another case yet he never expressed it.  
"That is the Sherlock you've been talking about?" Sam pointed at the man standing with Molly's phone and looked at Molly who just stuttered and blushed.

"Uhh...I... uhh..." Molly blushed even harder when she stuttered. Sam didn't seem to care about her friend being embarrassed.

Sherlock gave Molly her phone back but without taking his eyes from Sam's back like she was going to bite him suddenly.

"Can't believe I wanted you to introduce me to him." Sam saw Sherlock glaring down at her. She was taller than Molly yet Sherlock still was a head taller than her. Sam decided to face his glare with one of her own. Blue eyes meeting brown.

It looked like they were both going to rip each other apart right that second with Molly watching them, when Sam's pager started beeping wildly. Molly sighed happily at the sound of the pager. They kept glaring at each other, their eyes unmoving willing the other to give up first. Of course Sam gave up first when she looked down at her pager. She groaned and started walking out of the room; her notes, charts and scans on one hand.

"A pleasure meeting you Mr. Holmes." She snapped sarcastically.

"Likewise Doctor Hunter." He bowed mockingly for her to which Sam chuckled despite her anger towards him.  
Molly decided not to bother Sherlock (although she did ask him if he needed her assistance) and followed Sam out of the room.

"So..." Molly muttered seeing Sam's knuckles turning white from holding onto the charts and papers rather forcefully. Molly always felt uncomfortable around angry people.

"Your dear Sherlock is an arrogant arse." Sam snapped quickly, Molly smiled despite herself and asked again.

"And?" She asked, Sam gave her a sideways glance and pursed her lips.

"He is quite hot to be honest..." Sam muttered not wanting to see Molly's grin. She did think Sherlock had been just a bit blessed in the looks department. She was a sucker for men with bright eyes and for strong jaws and sternocleidomastoids.

Molly giggled. "Yes he is quite hot." She repeated teasing her. "What were you doing down there with him?" She said when they had started climbing the stairs, Molly was heading to the cafeteria while Sam was heading to the ER.

"Well he solved one of my medical cases... he saw a tumor the size of a bean cut in half or less from behind me! That man may be a bloody git but he is definitely brilliant."  
Molly saw how Sam really meant what she was saying about him and smiled. Not many people were able to express how brilliant Sherlock was without gagging or at least frowning. Sam looked far from frowning, she was actually smiling.

They parted quickly after that. Sam frowned at the fact that she had never given him her name, but simply dismissed the thought because she had her name on her coat. She definitely needed sleep, her brain was slow today.

Sam spent the rest of her day doing consults, paper work and consulting with someone from neuro about the tiny tumor Sherlock had found. After a lot of planning she called the patient who was actually happy to have found out that he had a brain tumor. She laughed with him for a while and arranged some more detailed scans before the surgery. The reason she wanted to help this man was mainly because he had charmed her with his humor. She really wanted to thank Sherlock for pointing out the tumor for her. She should have done so immediately after he told her about it, but he had been such an arse the thought of saying a simple "thank you" never crossed her mind.

Sam decided she owed him one. She never knew how fast he was going to charge her for it.

* * *

**A/N**: Please review, I need to know if i need to continue writing... also I need a beta


	3. Chapter 3

The thing about curiosity is that we sometimes blame it for our actions. In this case, it was totally understandable. Samantha Hunter was the kind of person who found calm in always doing something to keep her mind working. It doesn't need to be anything too elaborated, just interesting.

Speaking about interesting, the things that she found out with the magic of Google were quite interesting.

Sherlock Holmes was quite the curious character. There were a couple of things she read about him being intelligent (and several synonyms like brilliant and gifted) that she didn't pay attention to at all because she wasn't really interested on hearing about his ego; but she found his blog and something about him and a Doctor Watson who apparently was single and ready to mingle, (or so it said in the article...) maybe those two where a gay couple. She made a mental note to ask Molly later.

Nope scratch that. She basically could hear herself saying "hey! Is your crush gay?" Molly would only freak out and deny it. When someone had a crush like Molly's they usually denied some of the most obvious flaws. Sherlock's flaws being his arrogance and possible homosexuality. Maybe she could ask him indirectly and see what happens.

Samantha read a bit of his blog, basically just the introduction to what "the science of deduction" was. She frowned at the line about "improbable" things. The one that said something like "whatever remains must be the truth". She could see his logic but sometimes things are just too improbable to be true. She couldn't see herself using this method of thinking. Most of the times she had to work with her instincts and observe everything she could to help the patient. Normally there were standard procedures that everyone has to follow so sometimes thinking too much isn't completely necessary.

She found the blog of Dr. John Watson with a link on Sherlock's blog. Sherlock's blog was otherwise quite boring, especially the post on ashes that she barely had the will to click on and read exactly one sentence before closing it. She read the last entry on Dr. Watson's blog named "a study in pink" fairly quickly. A part from the poor prose and amateur description of the details (which weren't many), she found the story quite enjoyable and interesting. She could see why some people asked him if he was in drugs or something because that definitely wasn't something that happened to everyone.

Her curiosity was satiated for a while after reading Dr. Watson's blog. Sam had asked Molly if Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were a gay couple. Molly, as expected, blushed madly and denied the issue. Molly was of no use to Samantha in the matters of gossip.

Jim, on the other hand, was another being who also picked at her curiosity. The first day at their flat (because it was in deed theirs) was so unimportant, it was completely civil and they both looked a bit uncomfortable with each other. It was the expected amount of awkwardness. They bumped into each other in the mornings, asked each other about what they liked and disliked, apologized for existing, and every other awkward/polite thing you could probably imagine.

On the third day of awkwardness, Sam entered the flat and took of her coat. There wasn't a coat rack because Jim had forgotten to buy one and Sam still had to move some of her stuff inside, so she placed the coat on the back of a chair.

There was no sign of her flatmate. Sam shrugged and went to take a shower, take a piss, and change into some more comfortable clothes. She walked barefoot into the kitchen which looked barely used. There was nothing outside the counters but some mugs in the sink and bread. Sam sighed and started exploring the kitchen. There was not much food but there was enough for some simple pasta and garlic bread.

She was half way done with the pasta and the sauce when the noise of Jim's keys made her turn her head.

Jim opened the door; he immediately saw her coat on a chair and sense the smell of some kind of milky sauce in the air as well as the rich smell of the garlic bread. He took a deep breath and sighed with content.

"Honey I'm home?" He raised his voice to make sure she heard him; he was smiling but frowning at the same time.

"Hey uhmm I didn't know if you liked pasta or no... but everyone has to like pasta and garlic bread because they taste like heaven. So I uhmm... yeah pasta" Sam began fidgeting with a small towel, she suddenly became overly conscious of what she was doing because it looked like she was doing a small effort to cook for him. "Although my Dad doesn't like pasta and I uhm. Yeah well."

"It smells great Sam." He half smiled in a sort of reassuring way, but his smile still unnerved her. "Don't worry I'll clean the disaster area afterwards." Jim saw her raising her eyebrow at him in disbelief. "Rules of the state, he who does not cook shall clean." He made mocking bow bending at the waist, one hand over his heart and the other by his side. It was still a gracious bow to which Sam just raised both eyebrows and giggled.

Jim stood up straight and frowned at her raised eyebrows. Sam smiled at him and continued her task. He glared at her back, not liking how she ignored him. He turned to leave his things on one of the tables by the couch and to change his clothes. Less than five minutes later they both sat on the dining room clad in jogging pants and T-shirts eating pasta and not saying much. Jim had moaned when he took the first bite of his pasta, Sam tried to bite back a small smile by biting the insides of her cheeks. She wanted to laugh at him for being so dramatic, it sounded forced but she didn't comment on it. He obviously noticed when she bit the insides of her cheeks, but didn't comment on it.

They were half way done with their food when Jim's phone started ringing. Staying alive was the only sound apart from Jim's deep sigh. He shook his head and took out his phone from the pocket of his pants in a violent move. Sam stared at him with her mouth filled with food. His entire demeanor was different, angrier; he looked tense and exasperated, like someone had just poked a bear that had been sleeping peacefully just five seconds.

"Excuse me, I need to get this." He made a face that showed his sincere reluctance, his lips in a thin line and his eyebrows high but furrowed in annoyance. Sam nodded and he bolted from his chair.

She expected him to just answer the call but he walked towards his room in a violent stride. He answered the phone and quickly shouted a "yes, what is it?" to the person on the other side of the conversation and promptly disappeared into his room. He closed the door after looking at Sam as if he was making sure she wasn't going to place her ear next to the door.

His voice was muffled; she could barely make out some words and his angry tone. Words like "idiotic", "easy", and phrases like "then try harder!" and "I'm the mind here" were some things that puzzled her. She wasn't even sure that she heard correctly. His tone sounded like what a parent would sound like when they were extremely cross and managed to make their voices as intimidating as possible, like a low growl. Maybe even a boss talking with some useless employee.

Jim came back to the table, brushing his hair in frustration.

"I'm so sorry about that darling... problems back at work." He excused himself, tucking his phone back into his pockets.

"'S ok." She struggled to make herself look calm but instead let some of her American accent out. Jim raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on it. He noticed how they both tried a bit too hard not to comment on each other's quirks.

Yes, she sometimes spoke with an American accent but not because she was one, she had simply lived in America for far too long. She didn't even know what her accent was anymore because she had lived in several countries since she was 5 and that had given her a weird accent.

"So..." she said trying to make the tension disappear with some small talk, "you and Molly."

Jim almost swallowed his fork and started coughing like crazy. Sam couldn't help but laugh hysterically at him.

"Don't just sit there laughing!" He managed to snap at her when he was a tad bit calmer, but still coughing a bit. "I could have been choking!" He motioned with his hand at himself and then chugged down his water glass completely.

"Oh shut it! You and I both know that's bullocks, besides I'm a trauma surgeon! I know when someone is choking for real." She giggled when Jim glared at her and pouted at the same time.

"Why would you do that to me?" He muttered in a low tone.

"Well my flatmate is probably dating my good friend Molly who I met in uni and I was wondering if they were actually dating or if he was gay. So yeah I'm asking." She wanted to glare at him in a I'm-a-protective-friend way but instead just frowned at the table trying not to laugh at him again.

"First of all I'm not gay, ok?" He pointed at himself and widened his eyes to look more convincing. It wasn't very convincing.

"So you are dating Molly?" Sam pointed out with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"What? No?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why are you asking me? And why not? Or is it that "it's complicated" bullshit people like giving ever since people had to find who they would marry without their parents?" Jim glared at her, this time more convincingly. "So? Why not?"

"You are only person who talks to me like that." He stated in a neutral voice.

"And that annoys you?" Sam asked, she physically pulled away from him. Her posture when straight and she removed her hands from the table. Her expression was one of worry, like she was about to feel about something.

"It annoys me that I find it refreshing." He muttered under his breath, "and no I'm not dating Molly yet... the farther I've got is to watch Glee at her flat with her cat on my lap and she sitting away from me."

"Isn't that kinda like a date?"

"Yeah but it ain't so official" he shrugged, his Irish accent sticking out for a moment.

"She likes classic stuff; you know... old school simple stuff like roses, chocolate, movie tickets and a fancy dinner." She blinked in a mock girliness and he appeared thoughtful.

"Really?" Sam nodded, "well that's easy enough. I'd just need to be my charming self." He smiled but then it slowly died away.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"It's just that... doesn't she fancy that Sherlock bloke?" Jim asked looking off; he was staring at the walls with an unfocused look.

"Well I'm not sure, I just met him a couple of days ago actually. He is such an annoying prick, doesn't know much but he makes it up by being an asshole and pointing out everything he sees."

Moriarty smiled, but he wiped it away from his face reminding himself that he was supposed to be Jim from IT and not James Moriarty consulting criminal. Yes, he had finally got her to talk about him. He knew that most women liked to "vent" about their lives and the people around them. He just needed to make her see that he was an ever present ear in the flat for her.

"I take it you don't like him?" he asked with genuine curiosity.

"Huh? I didn't say that." She raised an eyebrow and took a bite of some more pasta.

"But... but you just... you..." Jim gaped like a fish out of water and Sam only shrugged.

"I have just chatted with the guy once," she shrugged again "I believe that the first interaction with someone is always bound to be weird, ugly or awkward. For example I didn't like you that much when I first met you." She contained her smirk and brought more pasta to her mouth.

"Wow thanks Samantha! That makes me feel so much better!" He threw his arms up in the air in the most dramatic way he could muster and Sam giggled, almost choking on her own glass of water.

"You should take it as a compliment, I don't like many people." Sam winked and smirked when Jim blushed a bit.

"Same here, I only have patience for five people in the whole hospital and that includes you lass" he pointed at her with a finger "Molly, Stamford, Doctor Richardson and a couple of guys that are not complete idiots from legal."

"Wow such a hater."

"Shut up you are no better." Jim laughed when Sam bowed in shame.

They spent their evening in comfortable silence. They had started to relax in each other's presence; they had even started wearing pajamas in the presence of each other. Apart from that they didn't see each other much since Sam had a weird schedule that either granted her some free days or 24 hours of work.

Sam laid down on her bed when she realized that Jim had deflected most of her questions. He basically only denied being gay in a quite suspicious way and then answered with questions or changed the subject. The only real conversation happened when they talked about Sherlock Holmes.

Molly was clearly infatuated with the consulting detective, but Sam didn't like the idea of her dating another asshole that would just leave her in a state of depression. That breakup she had in uni with that Logan bloke had been hard enough for a lifetime worth of depression and vodka. Sam smiled sadly at the memory and fell asleep eventually.

She woke up to an empty flat and a clean kitchen. Jim was off to work and she still had two hours to kill before having to face the world. There were some medical journals that she needed to read and some emails to check, she also needed to call her mom eventually. She fell asleep instead of doing anything.

* * *

"Molly you know Doctor Hunter right?" Sherlock asked without taking his eyes from one of the microscopes at the lab.

Sherlock was scribbling some of his ideas on a note pad, probably just to show them to someone else because he barely forgot a thing. Molly was trying quite hard not to look at him wearing his purple shirt with the two top bottoms undone and showing off his long pale neck and his freckles.

"Which Doctor Hunter?" Molly raised an eyebrow from where she sat on another microscope slightly far away from him. "There are like four Doctor Hunters in this building." Molly mumbled, Sherlock sighed at the sound of her mumbling but he didn't comment on it this time.

"Doctor Samantha Hunter, I need her input on a theory I have," Sherlock snapped in an exasperated tone that Molly knew quite well.

Molly was taken aback, her eyebrows close to touching her hairline with surprise. Sherlock Holmes had never asked for any kind of input that wasn't from her or one of the chief surgeons of the hospital who weren't complete idiots in his opinion (only two of them weren't). Of course that happened just as much as bloody eclipse.

Anyway Sam was going to become the chief of trauma eventually when the current one felt he was old enough to retire, so maybe Sherlock wanted to become acquainted with her before that happened.

Yeah sure, like Sherlock Holmes could care for such trivial things as getting acquainted with someone.

"Why?" Why didn't Sherlock ask her? She was a pathologist for God's sake!

"I need someone to listen to my theory and Doctor Hunter is already familiarized with this case." He tapped a large manila folder that probably contained medical scans. "Would you be so kind as to fetch her for me Molly?" He finally raised his eyes to look at her. Sherlock wore one of his fake half-smiles that he knew Molly always fell for.

Molly couldn't help but stare back at his green-blue eyes. His eyes softened for her and his smile grew slightly.

"Ok...I... I'll be... back in a minute... umm... yeah." Molly blushed and started to walk backwards, she almost hit a table with her back. Her blush deepened further and she turned around to quickly get away from him.

Sherlock's smile faded away instantly and his attention returned to his microscope.


	4. Chapter 4

Molly returned five minutes later to the lab followed by Samantha. Sherlock didn't move from his seat or acknowledged their presence as they entered the room. What he didn't know was the exact kind of mood Sam was in.

Molly had talked with her about Sherlock every time they went out for drinks. Molly had ranted on how he used her constantly before Sam even set a foot on St. Bart's Hospital. Sam felt like she already knew him in a sense. Now that she had met Sherlock, Sam was wondering what Molly saw in him.

"I mean, it's like I'm only there when he needs something from me! Otherwise he ignores my presence." Molly looked at the floor as she walked next to Sam. She didn't have much to do because the ER was almost deserted and the patients were healthy enough for the interns to take care of them.

"Then why do you help him?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow. "You usually don't stick around people who treat you badly."

It was true, Molly was an awkward human being but even she had her own

"Well... I like the feeling of being useful and I don't really care. I'm just doing him a couple of favors." Molly shrugged and smiled sincerely. "He is the most brilliant man I've ever met." Sam nodded, somehow understanding her words. Sam loved being useful, that's why she chose trauma for her specialization.

She frowned, thinking about how her poor friend was being treated by Sherlock. She had only talked with the man once, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to kick his ass for being mean to Molly.

"Sam, you've got that face."

"What face? This is my face." Sam snapped back with her frown still on.

"That murderous face you've going on... please don't hit Sherlock." Molly shivered when Sam raised an eyebrow, "please Sam. You can shout at him whatever you want to IF he acts like a prick."

With that they stormed into the lab, Molly had a worried face and Sam seemed to be in a state between anger and annoyance.

"Finally Molly, took you long enough." Said Sherlock, he did not take his eyes from his microscope while he spoke. "Get over here Doctor Hunter. I'm almost done with this sample." He didn't see Sam crossing her arms in defiance, "Molly your presence is no longer required here, you may take your leave." He waved his hand in dismissal without looking at her.

Sam gaped at him as Molly left the room with quick, short strides and with her head low. Molly even APOLOGIZED as she was leaving the room! How dare he treat her like that? It's not like this man was her boss or something to treat her like that.

"What the hell man? You shouldn't be such an arse to her! You shouldn't use her like that!" Sam snapped at him after Molly was clearly out of earshot.

"I don't agree. Molly's availability made it quite easy to obtain you for your delightful input. I see no reason to be upset over that."

"You posh git! You have no right to treat her like that." Sam wanted so badly to just slap the shit out of him, but Molly had said not to do it.

"Judging by your reaction I believe you have known Molly for quite a while. Perhaps you met her in another job or at uni. No, not job... university it is. You seem to be about the same age but your complexion and personality make you seem older." Sherlock squinted at her and crinkled his nose in a way that it looked like he was disgusted about seeing her.

"Pardon me?" She blinked and stared at him. She asked him that to give him an opening to take back his comment.

"Oh don't act surprised, you've clearly known this for a while." he huffed in annoyance. "Why are you doing this? Molly is a grown woman and she can take care of herself." He stated, finally looking at her and studying her pose. "Is it some sort of overprotective complex or do you have an attraction towards Molly?"

She was angry but she didn't look like she was going to react physically. Her crossed arms above her chest and below her breasts indicated that she was containing herself from hitting him.

"That's what friends do Sherlock; they defend each other even when the other is perfectly capable of doing so for themselves." She snapped, one of her hands gripping the bicep that hid under her white coat.

"That's just idiotic, why would someone do something useless for someone else unless it has some ulterior motive?" he spat, still not standing up and slightly glancing at her from behind the microscope. "Especially for someone who is 'perfectly capable', as you so kindly put it, to do so by themselves." He huffed in annoyance and began switching the samples on the microscope. Sam tried not to be distracted by the agile movements of his long fingers.

"Wow you sound like such a shitty friend."

"I don't have friends." He snapped his head to glare at her; Sam widened her eyes and stared at his angry face as he continued to concentrate on his new task. "Now could you please come and do what you were supposed to do." He pointed towards the manila folder on the table.

"Supposed to do? First of all I'm not 'supposed to do' anything for you." She did her own quotation marks with her fingers. "Second, you haven't told me yet what it is I'm 'supposed to do' for you." With a frown she went to stand next to Sherlock and he opened the folder to give her the scans.

Sherlock made a gesture with his hand to present the scans for her in a regal way. Her frown deepened and she snatched the scans from his hand in the most violent way she could muster without actually hitting him. Sherlock grinned at her antics and he made sure she saw his smile.

"OK so she is definitely dead." She pointed out right away.

"How can you tell?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well she doesn't have a heart so..."

"No! Not that woman! Why does everyone point out the obvious? How can you tell it's a woman?"

There was only one set of scans and it showed the clavicles with a bit of neck, the ribs, the solar plexus, and it ended on the hypogastric area which means there was no pelvic area to be seen.

"Oh that! It's because of the form of the sternum and the ribs a bit too thin for the general anatomy of a male. Remember that you can't always see the boobs on the x-ray scans." Sherlock nodded. "Was that it?" She asked using her professional voice.

"No." He didn't say anything else, just stared at the folder with a forlorn expression. "I intend to require more of that delightful input."

"Delightful input? Was that a compliment coming from Mister Sherlock Holmes Consulting Detective?" Samantha grinned at him teasingly.

"Women tend to be swayed easily when compliments are applied in the right manner" he replied in his usual cold tone, Sam only laughed at him.

"You couldn't just let that one slide... but who am I kidding." Sherlock ignored her taunt and returned his attention to his microscope Samantha sighed in exasperation and moved a bar stool near Sherlock's to be able to see what he was doing.

"So..." she started "what did you need my **delightful** input on?" Her tone was clearly sarcastic, but it couldn't quite hide her curiosity.

Sherlock waited a moment before rolling his shoulders, standing up and talking a couple of steps without actually going anywhere. Sam raised an eyebrow at how dramatic he was but chose not to comment on it.

"You're a doctor." He stated without looking at her.

"Quite the brilliant deduction you've got there Mr. Holmes." Sam smirked and tried not to laugh at him, especially when he rolled his eyes at her and sighed dramatically. Apparently Sherlock Holmes had just learned to identify when she was in fact teasing him and should be ignored.

"You do research. What can you tell me about this?" He pointed again to the scans.

"You really want me to help you with this?" He nodded. "Don't you have another Doctor friend who would gladly help you out? I mean, you are so friendly! You must have so many doctor friends." She picked up the scans and aligned them between the lamps on the ceiling and her eyes. She squinted as she looked at it and unconsciously pursed her lips.

"I told you, I don't have friends." Sherlock stated in a monotone deep voice. Sam ignored him.

"To tell the age of a person you have to look at the xiphoid process, because it stops growing when... Jesus Christ... she was barely a teenager." She gasped and continued studying the scans frantically. "How did I not see this?"

"You didn't see it because you need glasses." Sherlock stated, not taking his eyes from the microscope.

"I **don't** need glasses" she stated slowly, lowering the scans to look at him.

"Yes you do."

"I don't"

"20 pounds say you do." He fixed her eyes on her and Sam blinked several times.

"What?" she asked.

"Isn't that what people say when they are sure about something?" Sherlock asked in real confusion.

"Uh yes they do," she nodded "but you are not actually betting with me, are you?"

"I can't see why not," he stated in his bored tone and got closer to her.

Sam took an involuntary step backwards to which Sherlock took another small step forwards. He bowed a bit to be able to stare at her and violate her personal space a bit. Sam shook her head and raised the scans again to continue studying her scans. Sherlock saw this as her own way to dismiss him without a word and took a step back.

"OK so there's something metallic here, below the 4th and 5th intercostal and the 7th and 8th... looks like someone tried to cut the blood flow from the major arteries and veins that reached the heart."

"Yes I saw that, I still can't figure out if she died during this or after that."

"She could have died instantly from a stroke, a subdural hematoma, simple blood loss or anything really. If she was kept on ECMO for a while..." her tone began to lower in volume, like she was talking to herself. "...and if the sadist who did this was a bit skillful and did the extraction nicely," she murmured "then she could have been able to wake up and realize she didn't have a heart beat and die in a couple of minutes or hours from shock or lack of proper treatment."

"Hmm... so dead."

"Dead." She repeated sadly. "Who did this Sherlock?" She asked, she wasn't used to such horrible deaths.

Sherlock Holmes didn't care about her feelings.

Sherlock Holmes didn't care about anyone's feelings.

"Someone who is bored, obviously. Most serial killers just want to be found. But this one... oh he is clever! He doesn't even allow the police to see the body." Sam held up a hand to shut him up before he went into a full deduction mode.

"Wait. Are you praising the serial killer?" Sam asked with a raised eyebrow. Sherlock noticed she did that a lot when speaking with him, like she doesn't quite believe what's going on.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed and tolled his eyes in exasperation. "I am merely impl-"

"No. No. You are." She poked his chest. "This isn't a game!"

"I had forgotten that you are not quite acquainted with my mannerisms." He spoke quickly, "I apologize." He said in a sarcastic way that clearly meant he didn't mean it.

"Ok, then... You said there's no body." She tried not to anger the possible serial killer and keep him talking. He nodded.

"I said the police officers haven't seen one."

"..." Sam froze with a neutral face while her brain began to overload with thoughts.

So the police officers haven't seen anything, but he has. Does he have the bodies stuck in a freezer and he brings scans with him everywhere he goes and waits for random doctors to study them. He did say that serial killers wanted to be found. Oh God what if he was a serial killer? Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! She has spent time with a crazy serial killer in a basement lab. She was alone in a basement with a serial killer.

Sherlock of course could read her every though in her face and sighed.

"I'm not a serial killer, Samantha." He said slowly, tasting every word with his tongue. He didn't know how frightening he actually sounded with his deep tone.

"That's what a serial killer would say." Sam tried really hard not to stammer and to sound completely normal. She could feel her pulse rapidly going up with the injection of adrenaline in her system.

"Then why would I even show you this?" He motioned to the scans that now rested on top of the table with a slow and gracious hand movement.

"You just said that serial killers want to be found." She snapped in disbelief. Sherlock smirked. "You could have some crazy kink that makes you want recognition from doctors."

"I congratulate you on the usage of my own words but please note that those words do not apply to me for I am not a serial killer. I solve murders; I don't commit murders when I'm bored."

Sam wasn't able to answer because the doors were suddenly thrown open by a silver haired man in a suit, Molly behind him with an apologetic expression on her face. The door smacked the wall violently and Molly flinched at the sound of the impact. Sherlock quickly hid the scans by sliding them off his table and under another one. Sam just stood there and watched the newcomers walk towards Sherlock in rapid steps.

"Sherlock what are you hiding?" The man shouted at Sherlock who feigned disinterest.

"Why would I be hiding something from you Detective Inspector?" He asked back with a nose crinkle and mock innocence.

"Molly said you are working on a case and I'm sure as hell you haven't had a case for five days!" The silver haired man snapped.

Sam was staring at the newcomer and at Sherlock. She was still in shock with the idea of Sherlock being a serial killer.

"John doesn't know if I'm taking a case or not" Sherlock stated with a sneer. Lestrade didn't even ask how he knew it was John who told him about the lack of cases. "I'm not hiding anything from you Grant."

"Greg!" He shouted and leaned over the table with his hands flats on top of it in his most menacing pose, "and who is this?" He looked sideways at Sam. "Is he bothering you too? You look scared and confused."

"Well-" Sam started but Sherlock interrupted her. She didn't know if she was going to tell them that Sherlock could be a serial killer, or that he was or wasn't bothering her, or that she did indeed feel scared and confused.

"Doctor Samantha Hunter, future head of Trauma."

"What?" Sam asked wide eyed. She turned to look at Molly who smiled shyly at her and to Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

"That's your name isn't it?" Sherlock asked full of sarcasm and exasperation.

"I'm not going to be the head of anything. I basically just got here!" She eyed Molly who was trying to hide a grin and turned Sherlock who looked annoyed.

"Why do you think this hospital would offer you enough money so that you didn't even think twice about accepting the offer? It wasn't a quantity that you would find unusual. Oh it was a calculated move. It was a sufficient amount. The current head of trauma has gotten old enough to consider his retirement. He is a proficient surgeon but he is not qualified anymore to hold his charge. I've seen you move and you are graceless." Sam frowned at that. "You support all your weight on your left side." Sam unconsciously fixed her posture. "Perhaps you injured your right ankle several times, could have been a ruptured Achilles tendon or several sprains in the same spot over the years. That means you enjoy running, your body is built for running or swimming but your skin doesn't show any degradation due to chloride." Sam touched her face to check for anything wrong. "But your skin tone is not natural, you've spent a lot of time in the sun and your hair looks dehydrated and thin. So you spent a lot of time somewhere arid or tropical. Did you serve in Afghanistan or Iraq?" He asked all of the sudden.

"Uh" Sam stared back at his blue eyes and then at the gaping public. She had forgotten all about them during Sherlock's deductions. "Aren't you supposed to deduce that easily?" Sam said and Sherlock glared at her. Meanwhile Lestrade and Molly just continued to stare at them.

"Iraq?"

"No."

"Afghanistan?"

"Kinda."

"What do you mean by "kinda"? You either served on Afghanistan or you didn't." Sherlock shouted, his face turning read and the muscles on his neck tensing up.

"I never served in Afghanistan." She shook her head slowly while studying his facial expressions.

"Right, you are not the military type." He nodded. "There's always something. So, where?"

"I got my degree of trauma orthopedic surgeon in America and spent more than a year in El Salvador doing pro-bono surgeries. After that I somehow began working at Al-Mouwasat in Jordan and sometimes they had to send some backup to Afghanistan to train more surgeons. I was sent to Afghanistan after a bomb exploded in between Al-Mouwasat and the Children's hospital. I wasn't sent because of the bombing, mind you, it was already scheduled. When I came back to England I validated my degrees and started working in another hospital until Barts employed me." Sam shrugged and smiled sadly.

Sherlock wanted to ask her about what she did on El Salvador, Jordan and Afghanistan but he could hear John telling that would be a bit not good.

"Now I'm here, stuck in a lab with a possible serial killer, a detective inspector, and my favorite pathologist."

"I'm not a serial killer Samantha!" Sherlock growled at her. He was getting tired of her stubbornness.

"That's what a serial killer would say!" Sam shouted back, Sherlock rolled his eyes and growled. "Why would you have those scans if you weren't a serial killer? Did you see your own face? You looked bloody exited to have them and show them to me!"

"Scans?" Molly and Lestrade asked at the same time after shaking off the post-deduction haze.

"Of course I can't see my own face! Don't be an idiot Samantha!" He huffed in annoyance ignoring Lestrade and Molly.

"Sherlock what scans?" Lestrade asked, moving around the table to get closer to Sherlock.

Sherlock immediately widened his eyes and pretended to be confused.

"What scans, Graham?" He faked a confused face with his brows slightly furrowed and his lips in a pout.

"The scans she just mentioned!" Lestrade shouted, "and my name is not Graham you prick!"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." Sherlock frowned and took a seat, ignoring everyone once again.

"Under that table." Sam pointed at the exact place the scans where hidden. Sherlock looked at her with clear betrayal and Lestrade grinned. She didn't expect to see them both sharing a look and throwing their bodies to the floor.

Molly gasped and raised her hand to cover her mouth when they accidentally hit a chair and it fell down. Sherlock accidentally pushed Sam slightly and she had to hold onto the table for dear life. Sherlock and Lestrade started a wrestling match on the floor like five year old kids, they were both grunting and gasping.

"Guys please stop!" Shouted Molly and as expected they didn't listen to her.

Lestrade was holding Sherlock by the waist with one arm and trying to pull his arms so that he could take the brown folder. It looked like Lestrade was doing an intense spooning with Sherlock in the floor. Both men were growling and frowning at each other.

Sam just took a couple of steps and kneeled down to take the scans from Sherlock's hand.

"HA!" Lestrade mockingly shouted in Sherlock's ear, practically leaving him deaf.

Sherlock huffed and shoved Lestrade away from him and stood up. Both men fixed their suits and hair (Sherlock complaining about his hair in low mumbles that made his voice sound incredibly deep). Lestrade held his hand open for Sam who simply smiled and handed him the folder.

Lestrade took out the scans and held them against the light.

"Hmmm..." he hummed and squinted at the scans. "Molly... what the hell am I looking at?" He ignored Sherlock's moaning behind him. Sam looked at Sherlock trying to keep her smirk from showing.

"Well..." Molly got closer to Lestrade, "for starters... he's dead." Sherlock moaned again.

"SHE! It's a she!" He shouted.

"Oh come on don't be a dick! You wouldn't know that without me!" Sam snapped at Sherlock who looked a bit apologetic for a second.

"Oh yes, my mistake. I was too busy looking at everything else. Like... I don't know... the missing heart?" Molly hit the scans with her index finger and looked at Sam with a sardonic smile. "That's what matters, isn't it?"

"Excuse me what are you implying?" Sam glared at Molly.

"Well some of us like to focus on the whole body and not just the bones and emergency stuff." Molly snapped.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow. Why the hell was Molly angry? And why was she picking a fight with this other doctor? He looked at Sherlock who was studying the whole event like a kid watching teli when he isn't supposed to. Lestrade wondered if he was enjoying this or actually studying both of them.

"Well some of us like being useful and actually save people."

"Did you just call me useless, Samantha?" Molly forcefully took the scans from Lestrade and took a step towards Sam.

"Well, if the shoe fits." Sam responded slowly when Molly was standing right in her personal space.

"OK girls stop!" Lestrade separated Molly and Sam with an arm. "Why do I feel like I'm the only one that doesn't know what's going on?"

"That's because you are the only one who doesn't know what's going on Graham."

"Greg."

"I may have mistaken your relationship for that of a closer friendship. I didn't have all the facts, but now I do. You two may be friends, but your relationship is competitive when your intellect is at stake. This violent reaction looks like it has happened one too many times. You were both at the top of your class, everyone else in uni seemed dull and idiotic to you although you two don't seem to be the type of person that would show off their skills and instead you two downgraded it by complaining a lot and helping other students with their classes."

"Shut up Sherlock, leave them alone." Lestrade glared at Sherlock and unconsciously took a pose that only a knight in a shiny amour could pull off. "You've deduced this girl too much for one day," he placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm surprised she hasn't ran away screaming yet." He laughed and quizzed her shoulder. Sam smiled at him when it was clear he was looking at her and then looked at Sherlock with a confused face.

"Can I just ask them something?" Sherlock took a step towards them.

Lestrade raised an eyebrow at Sherlock, he never asked for anything so he must be building some sort of momentum.

The drama queen.

"Ehh... sure." Lestrade removed his hand from Sam's shoulder and took a step back to leave Molly and Sam right besides Sherlock. Sherlock placed his hands below his chin and crinkled his nose before asking.

"Which one of you is better?"


End file.
